…even in texass.

7 months

once again, my letter to you is belated. what can i say? we are all a bunch of sickies at our house. beginning a week ago–not coincidentally, three days after visiting your pediatrician–all of our throats became a telltale kind of scratchy, and it’s all gone downhill from there. all three of our noses are snotty, but your moms have the benefit of understanding the concept of nose-blowing. you, sadly, have become well-acquainted with the bulbous aspirator of doom.

our collective sickness this week has not been all bad. we stayed home together and watched a powerpuff girls marathon, for example. i know that this statement will mean nothing to you by the time you’re old enough to read these letters, but trust me: six hours of the powerpuff girls are hours well spent. also, we were able to watch the inauguration of barack obama together as a fambly. i nursed you, bulbed you, and snuggled you on my lap as we watched the festivities and made snarky comments about the evil lord cheney in his wheelchair. bliss.

anyway, back to your month. you grew up so much this month, my love. i don’t even know where to begin. your auntie kris says of her baby that she is waking up and up and up. that perfectly describes this month with you. without further ado, here, have some bullet points:

you are very nearly crawling. until yesterday, you simply didn’t have the bravery to lift one arm up off the ground. now, you’re showing off with your one-handedness. don’t forget: trying to crawl with no hands is not possible. face plants and crying ensue.

you wave. you aren’t quite sure what to do with your fingers when waving, so it kind of looks like your playing castanets, or doing the backwards italian “ciao” . in any case, it’s adorable.

you continue to be huge. at your most recent dr appt, you weighed in at 24 lbs, 15 oz. you were 29 1/4″ long as well. and your head was large as well, though i can’t remember the measurements. the dr says i have blue bell ice cream in my boobs. i suppose that’s a compliment? needless to say, your size remains in the 98th percentile.

you talk. maybe we’re crazy, but you say “mama” and mean it. you usually say it when you need comfort. and just yesterday, you sized up your sippy cup said “wawa”.

you know the names of all the pets. “where’s claira?” i’ll ask, and you stare at claira. “where’s sal?” and you shift your gaze to sal.

you now have two teeth, with more in hot pursuit.

so that is a snapshot of your developmental month, my girl. the other day, i told mama h that engaging with you anymore is more like engaging a person than a baby. (does that sound mean? i surely mean no offense to babies.) what i mean is that you understand so much, communicate so much, that i forget you are a dependent baby. and then you leave a log in your pants, and calmly articulate that your diaper isn’t going to change itself, thanks.

i love you, my darling daughter. every day with you is joy.

love,
mama

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9 Responses

it truly is amazing the size differences in children.. My daughter is nearly three.. (april) and just barely clears 25 lbs.
Don’t worry.. she is just under the 5th percentile… so she’s very small… but it just boggles my mind!

What a doll and such a chunk. She is weighing so close to what Bliss weighed as she goes. I so feel for your arms at this point. It is hard to carry around 25 pounds all the time!!! It is how I got stronger in my less dominant left arm than my right.

I am a college friend of Shannon’s, and while reading her blog, clicked into your world out of curiosity. I just wanted to say that as a fellow writer, and recorder of the small victories and treasures in life, I enjoy reading of all yours. You have a beautiful little fambly.